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Gigaku
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Name: Elisa
Birthday: 5/13/1990
Gender: Female
Interests: Drawing, reading, Harry Potter, TEEN TITANS, DC comics, Sailor Moon, internet. Gaiaonline.com, deviantart, GERARD WAY (oh, My Chemical Romance too...^_^)
Expertise: Art. I can draw. I can also do a handstand. go me.
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Art
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  Gigacami
Yahoo:  cam_lime@yahoo.com
Member Since:
6/29/2003
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| I am back to school and i feel like i am in the middle of an unmoving limbo.
It's strange, because my life has(n't) returned to this back-and-forth constant thrashing.(augh i've started reading again after a long time so my vocabulary is CONFUSED). That is, I'm back to a regular 8-to-2 schedule, which seems to throw absolutely everything else up in the air. Violently up in the air. And letting it all splatter on the ground.
Mainly my mom gave me this massive lecture and (probably) unintentionally scared the shit out of me about my dad's cancer.
Sorry, I started this awhile ago and was interrupted. Can't finish it now. Now I want to write about how every little thing that upsets me throws me into this massive depressive state. Today I almost got into a fight with my uncle and it brought down my entire attitude. I've decided that its this place, this house, this family. This family makes me want to leave chicago and never look back. That's a big deal to say, to even think. I love chicago. Forever. But I feel so trapped.
I think what really scares me is what my mother calls my pessimism. She thinks that I think I'll never be anything more. This is incorrect. I KNOW I can never be anything more. No matter what college I go to or what I major in, I know I'll end up being a secretary somewhere in a 9 to 5 office. This is a fact of life. Or at least my life. I am no one special. I don't have the willpower, inspiration or talent to make myself into anything special. I am stuck in this family, in this city, forever... it alarms me that no one else is alarmed by this. I find myself envying the main character in Cinema Paradisio; his adoptive dad knew what was best; to leave, be famous, and never look back. Alas. I am not in Cinema Paradisio. I'm not even a movie. At best, I am this: a whiney emo blog on a social netowrking site that no one has used in years. Boo.
P.s. WRITTEN FROM MAH FONE AGAIN WILL FIX ERRORS LATER LOL | | |
| haha, my last post was really whiney. i do feel that way irl, it's just hard for me to express myself in a way thats not in the style of an emo 19 year old. because i am one.
Anyway, most of my beautiful nails ripped off, due to various accidents in cars and sofas. its all very tragic, one nail actually started bleeding and it hurts but i'm alive. i'm sad i dont have my beautiful nails anymore, but on the upside i can type SOOOOOOOO much better, and i've begun painting again. just today, i did two little paintings of spock and mccoy. so cute! i'm doing kirk tomorrow, and i want to sell them. theyre small, so about 5$each i'm thinking. i also want to do a special one for aliah's mom for trekking out with me so often =D
In other news, school next week. i can't wait. it's so difficult getting back into a good sleeping groove though. =[ oh, and i got my period today, which i didnt even realized until i noticed the blood everywhere. not having cramps is sometimes not a good thing. i wonder if having a regular period will intensify them. yet another reason to resent having to be female. pooo.
My dad is also trying very hard to be a dad. he first gave me this massive lecture about how i'm not doing anything with my life (THANKS MOM. THANKS A FUCKING LOT.), how art will take me nowhere and its a massive waste of my time, then he decided that learning to drive and getting up at 6am to bikeride in the park will save everything. i cant say anything tho because he has cancer. not that i really mind or anything, in fact bikeriding and driving can only be good for me, BUT SIX FUCKING AM?! WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT?!!!!
also, i am reading more. so far, its just been trashy star trek novels that i realized are het, 1980's, pre-internet fanfiction, so, it's not much progress. but it's progress! however i am trying to move onto something a bit more intelligent, like Phillippa Gregory, who i love very much but have abandoned as of late.
so yes. that is my life so far. don't mind these.
i was also thinking of getting a tumblr. but god knows i have more blogs than i know what to do with.
annywaybye | | |
| I want to die, and I want to tell you why.
First let's start off with the basic, 'the universe is so big and humanity is so insignificant' because it's true. i'm not affecting the universe, i'm not going to even affect the course of human history. I will enter and exit this world unnoticed by millions, and millions will/are doing the same. That's not my excuse, but it is a major factor in eveyone's life. This fact defines how you live your life.
SO. If life has no emminent, pemanent purpose, one can conclude that life is for enjoying. relish life. live.
if you're not enjoying life, what's the point? you're just living to please others. how important are these people? if i died, my family and friends would cry. they'd be sad. they'd move on, but miss me every day.
newsflash: i wont give a shit when i'm dead.
I think about my future a lot. which might surprise some people, but i do. i see the people around me, i see my own level of perserverance and i know my future. it's going to be a lot of work. and yes, there will be results; but for other people. no matter what degree i get, i'm going to end up with a job sitting behind a desk. i will work to get a small paycheck, i will never leave chicago, i will get a house and get married and have kids and raise them and support them and then i will die. even if i earn more than a small paycheck, i will not be rich, and i will always have bills to pay or people to owe. i will not be extremely important to anyone that im not related to.
this makes me uneasy.
it makes me uneasy to know that i cannot expect more from this life that i'm supposed to be enjoying to its fullest. i know that if i was given an entire life to be filled without concequences or ties, it would not be this. and it's silly to think i deserve to be living a life without concequence, but what else is life for? If i cant enjoy it, what's the point? im going to be living miserable and in pain. there will be brief moments of light; there are people i love, things i enjoy doing. but in the bigger picture, these things often seem small compared to the things i will have to do to keep these things constant. (thingsthingsthings lol i need a bigger vocabulary)
anyway, my emoness has faded and ive forgotten all about this. ps i agonized over the proper use of affect in the beginning of this post. who the fuck invented affect/effect i'd like their heads on a platter plz.
anyway besides hating life, nothing has changed much. need cash. hangs have been epic. as you can tell, my vacation is slowly ebbing away and the reality of life is returning. as much as that sucks, it is inevitable, and i console myself with the fact that i will forever remember this carefree summer with extreme fondness, no matter the cost or concequence.
a lot of big words in this post geeze.
pss omfg is that hollywood undead in the title how did that happen... | | |
| So my mother decided to check up on some shit i have called PCOS cos i guess we kinda forgot about it cos my dr is very 'just take these pills and shut up'. so we go to this new dr who sticks her finger up my hooch which is something you dont want to particularly stick up there (and all i kept thinking was anton) ANYWAY she goes 'guuurl u need some birth control cos ur hormones are cuhrazy'. and im like, 'shyyyyt i caint remember to take dem pills ery single day' and shes all, 'stick dis up yo hooch!' and gives me like this vag ring or sumshit but she first gave me some pills to start my period before i stick shit up my hooch.
but i am not looking forward to having a period every single month like a normal girl. i've very much been enjoying running around like a prepubecent boy in cargo shorts and green hair without a womanly care in the world except eyeliner which nowadays can also be a manly care anyway. ive been living my life pretty happily without the constant reminder that i am FEMALEFEMALEFEMALE. not that id rather have a penis (EWbetchplz) and not that i dont love being a girl, but like. its such a pain. not even physically, cos i hardly ever get craps. its inconvenient for me mentally.
anyway this WAS gonna be a post about saying 'thank you', but this gushing blood thing is a tad more emminent. im not even going to go into detail about how i need money, or how much physical pain im in because of my TOTALLY ROCKIN SUMMER because it's hard for me to write when there are other people in my room. and sad to say, at 3 am on a monday, there are people in my room.
plus im so distracted by ontd rn. | | |
| We go back. Way back. I was seven years old when my mom and grandma went to see an apartment across the street. I had no idea why we were moving, but I didn't care. I might have even been excited.
Walking up the front steps, I hadn't even entered the house before this small girl bounced my way and asked me to play. I didn't think about seeing the apartment that I would spend the next five years in; I went to play. She was the landlords daughter. She lived on the floor above me. She had a massive dog that scared me and her own entire play room. She had an older brother that I rarely saw, a real snapping turtle, and a mexican dad who owned lots of buildings.
Christina has always been demanding, has always been troubled, has always been resilient. I cannot recall a thing we have in common except american girl dolls. But we've always been the same somehow. I liked how she could push me to my limit, to the point where I would explode, and bounce back the exact same way she approached me the very first time we met. In a way, I could be someone with her that I couldn't be with anyone else. I was bolder. I would try to loosen up around her, while at the same time try to build the strength to fight her.
Ahh that sounds weird. I can't put chris into words. She's my second oldest friend, and I can't help but feel bad for her. She lives a shitty life and she's fucked up. i know I can't save her. But I still want to be there for her.
Its a weird thing.
PS TYPED ALL THIS FROM MY NEW G1 FONE, I KNOW THERE ARE MISTAKES I'll FIX IT LATER LOL | | |
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my xanga's been pimped by mcr_codes_4u
